


If I Can't Have You...He can.

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Loren the Amazon Princess
Genre: M/M, On Mesphit's part, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mesphit knows he loves and desires Saren.</p><p>Saren desires Draco and vice versa.</p><p>He knows that too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Can't Have You...He can.

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely adored Mesphit's route, but his ending was so sad that I stick to Draco. But I still go through his options anyway, to get the jealousy options~ This is a result.

Him.

I always see my blonde human--- _What right have I to call him mine?_ , I always ponder ---with the half-elf. I know he is half because he reeks of human. My nose may be my foremost asset, but in cases like this it doesn't have to be. If there is one common trait between forest elves and dark elves--- for there are so many more than that forest witch Myrth perpetuates ---is the we both hate humans more than one another.

That has changed for us both however, after the blasted war ended. The forest elves and my people gain the from the forced collaboration the war put them in. My change of heart results only from him.

Saren is what he is called.

Because despite all danger to himself, the shame it may have brought upon his mistress, and tension it caused between him and his elven allies, he reached his hand to me that day. I am a demon inside. A beast. A fact I have long since come to terms with. Yet there he was, bright and shining. An opportunity, a way out of my eternal dark tunnel.

I know not when his place as reluctant saviour became these feelings of possession, adoration, and lustful desire, but I only know that they have.

But there was an obstacle in my way that will not move, that he himself puts in place, and still remains.

That damned halfling.

Draco is what he calls himself, and I know that not to be his true name--- who would name a child as such? Not even a ridculous human.

He always smiles, and laughs, and attempts to make merry even in dire situations. Yet I have seen a smile on his face that only have been seen by two sets of eyes; my own in secret, and purposefully Saren's. It is not the affectation he presents to everyone else. It is a smile, that even I, in my hatred of him, can appreciate. It is one of adoration, and love, not unlike my own feelings, yet more pure.

I had an inkling of this notion since the beginning, from my vague memories of our desert confrontation. The part-elf shielded him from my wrath, despite having unguarded and weak flesh. His magical potential was staggering, even moreso that Myrth, whose people see her as all but holy. But he is susceptible to physical attack, and I could have easily killed him. Yet he stood firm against me to protect Saren.

He watched him, as do I. When he is not looking, again, as I. We both chased after him with our gazes, wishing, hoping that he with find it in himself to speak with us. Even though I respond coldly, I truly treasure those moments. Whereas I respond with faux anger, he responds with unbound and unhidden glee.

Maybe it is our approaches that made us different. He was clear in his intent, and did not keep his feelings pent up like another demon festering inside himself. Maybe that is why he garnered fond gazes from Saren when he is occupied elsewhere. Maybe it is why it is he that he spent his evenings with, both keeping each other company on guard duty so often that it was secretly referred to as "Draco and Saren's turn". Why I slept in the cold, tied against a tree to only escape in the early hours of the morn to be found again just to have a moment of non-hostile contact with him.

Maybe it was his pure love for him, uninhibited affection and better decisions that leaves me pondering and pining while he actively made our sun love him.

It was always clear to me where Saren's affection lays. Not with myself. They are with him--- to even think his name is painful and unappealing.

Sometimes, when Saren felt the need to guard me overnight, he talked to me, thinking me asleep. I let him keep thinking this, eager to hear him speak in a voice that is not frustrated and full of pity. Even if he spoke only of Him.

"Today he looked at me again. With this look in his eyes I couldn't place, it's like he's looking straight into me. I feel so exposed. He already knows me so well in such short time."

I heard him sigh, and as well as the soft shuffling that comes with a hand running through soft, golden hair

"I know I like men, I always have."

The desire for my eyes to rip open and bare my soul, my feelings to him right then and there was almost painful. But my tongue lay still, eager for more, despite his previous sentiment leaving me with less chances than before.

"I think he does too. It that why it's so awkward?"

 _No you fool, it is because you love him and not me!_ I wanted to scream, but nearly bit my tongue off in stopping myself.

"I just know I want to stay around him as long as possible. If you were awake you would probably tell me to stop sitting around and confront him."

_I would tell you to leave and spare me the pain, is what I would do._

"Goodnight, Mesphit. Pleasant dreams..." he paused thoughtfully, "If you even ever have those."

_You have now totally prevented that._

It was not only this time that I have gotten concrete proof of their feelings. Mere days before our assault on my kin--- they are not kin I want to have, not any longer, but they are in me all the same ---I caught them.

Saren had his hands on his face, and carded them through his hair, revealing his poorly hidden ears. When I saw them I felt even more reviled. The man was everything I ever hated, human and forest elf, crammed together into one life that was taking my reason of living away from me. Saren looked at him with such sorrowful and loving a gaze I had to momentarily look away.

I heard heated words exchanged, about loss of life and dangers and then my enemy retreated to his tent sobbing. Saren watched him go, and I left then, wanting to see no more.

I had no hope by that point. I just swallowed this extra darkness inside myself. Even with this acceptance, it was still hard to see them flaunt this blatant romance.

When he was hurt by that enlarged drake, I resented myself for feeling a pang of momentary relief in thinking he was dead. It was pointless to feel such things. What reason who he even have to come to me if his lover died? But then---

I have never felt so humbled and so normal again, when Saren leaned down to the half--- no, he deserves respect, for that gesture he made for Saren, for us all. For such a gesture I can reluctantly call him Draco --- then lifeless body, and with every drop of energy in his broken and drained (yet still painfully beautiful) body released a healing spell so bright that Loren, the women whom many have dubbed invulnerable, turned her head away. Only after assuring himself of Draco's breathing did he too collapse in a heap of relief.

I personally carried the halfling mage myself to temporary quarters, much to the surprise of the entire party. I did so only to mutter something to him and him alone, even if he was not awake to hear it. "He loves you, and do no take what you have stolen from me lightly."

I was in the room next to them, and, even though I spoke of it not, desperately wished to be somewhere else. Because in three days after he was bed ridden (each day Saren visited him), I heard commotion and knew that he had awoken. Mere moments after that, I heard them consummate their love.

Every groan, moan, and creak drove a new stake in my heart. What if was me, bringing those sounds out of him? He was clearly on top of the other man. What if it was me who was dominating, giving me a semblance of control in my life, what if it was me he was pushing into, making me cry out--- before I knew it my undergarments were down and my hand wet and stained from regret. I slept without dreams, just an exponentially enveloping darkness and fits of sorrow.

The next morning, I refused to look at either once I saw them emerge from the room, hands intertwined, and his skin glowing radiantly.

These events are all in the past now. My demons have quieted since their king has fallen, though they occasionally rise again to remind me of my mistakes. I hear tell of my Saren and his mage and their whereabouts. Running some type of pub together. Happy. Enjoying life and their love.

But they deserve such happiness. The halfling, the masterful mage, _Draco_ , has earned his place by my Saren's side. Love that deserved consummation, and success.

The only things a monster deserves is solitude, regret, and death.•

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry Mesphit our UST was beautiful but Draco is in my heart.
> 
> Does anyone even read these?


End file.
